


Rivulet

by spike21



Category: Angel: the Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-12-14
Updated: 2002-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-17 12:01:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spike21/pseuds/spike21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wes and Gunn from S2 Angel -- before the wierdness, before Fred, when they were just the sunniest couple in LA and it has absolutely nothing in it but smuttiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rivulet

_Hey, Te, remember when the world was young and green?_

 _  
  
_

_Te: Oh oh,... make me a pretty Wesley thought, please?  
Spike:: mmm. Wesley and Gunn in the afterward. Moonlight thru the window. City noise. Wes dabbling his fingers in the sweat, tracing trails in all that hard muscle. Brown skin in the dark gone silvery...  
Te: Oh  
Te:: Ohhh  
Spike: Or one actual rainy night in LA, Wes in his leathers pulling Gunn in out of the rain into a doorway. Slow slick kisses of sweat and warm rain. Wes fascinated with the slide of his thumbs on the soft skin over Gunn's ears. The need to tongue and taste there  
Te: *whimpering*  
Te: Oh mami...  
Spike: Gunn laughing softly cuz it tickles, but Wes's other hand slips down...  
Te:  
Spike: Wes smelling of wet leather  
Te: Yes. Yes._

Warm, clever tongue in Gunn's ear making him hotter and hotter. Wes's gloved hand, leather palm dragging on his t-shirt skims the nipple, down his belly.

Wes pushing against him, eyes shiny. Not the usual desperation but some utterly confident variation. Going after what he wants. Knowing there won't be a no

Tug of his shirt and warm, supple leather against his belly. Fingering his navel. Wes biting the point of his jaw. Sharp, flat teeth.

"I'm going to think about baseball statistics now."

"You just try." Wesley's voice in his ear is like a tongue too. Wesley's going to make him come. He's so damn happy he started this but all his body can do is writhe. Part of his brain actually tries to do that, hold off, presents a few random stats, but the whole rest of his brain just gives it the look and goes back to feeling the heat and weight and trying to taste the English in the sweat on Wesley's neck. And Wesley's mouth finds his mouth. Sharp curve of lips and Gunn takes his own back with a thorough suck of that long upper lip.

Wesley's sudden shudder his reward. Their tongues filling each other's mouths completely, no air space just the slide of rough and wet and hot. Wesley's gloved hand, other gloved hand now, bracketing his waist and he has to turn Wes around, press him against the door to no one's house. Burned out building smell light on the air. Old damage and Wes is damn fierce when he throws himself into the surrender. Kissing him, tucked in the corner kisses so sweet and hot. The shuddering, jagged push of Wesley's hips. Warm rain on his hot scalp, trickling down the back of his neck. What he wants to do...

Always wanted this, always wanted this, fantasy so raw and *dumb* that when he's not thinking with his dick it makes him blush, but damn. He wants to be naked in his city in the rain. Yeah, maybe that. *His* city. Made that safe.

"Oh man, I want to pull your leathers off. Fuck you right here. Right *now*..." Wesley's whimper is totally sincere.

"I think... that might... call... attention..." Between furious bites to the neck, collar bone that spark and fizz. And he's got Gunn's fly open. Wow. He *really* likes this man. Prickled and unprickled. Sudden shift that pushes Gunn a little farther out into the rain and he has to close his eyes as warm water trickles down his face.

"You think this...won't?" His laugh swallowed with a sharp suck of air as Wesley peels and swallows him with one quick move. Wesley's mouth is hotter than the rain.

Stupid as hell to have his back to the alley, but they've checked it and... ahh... Wesley's mouth is going to make short work of him. Wesley's hands hard on his ass, pumping him, sucking in long, *hard* waves that are zooming him along. Fast forwarding him past thoughts, words.

"Good...so good...so hard..." Blinking water away to peer down as his hips take over the pumping rhythm. His own short helpless grunts. Breathy sounds that rise up like heat. Wes's hair is wet. His glasses are off. Looking so damn manly down there on his knees, head pressed to Gunn's belly. Gunn has to run his fingers through the waves of hair. Cup the roundness of Wesley's skull. Thought or question at this almost coming to him but then his eyes were filling up with rainwater and his spine caught like a fuse and bucked his hips deep into something soft and only barely yeilding and so damn hot and he was coming hard and wobbling.

Strong, fine hands holding him steady, still pulling him in and sucking, throbbing around him. Letting him slip out. Casual grab at the doorframe cause it felt like he was falling. Even though he wasn't.

A minute to just breathe. A minute to quick check left and right and his peripheral vision was good enough to include 'behind' in that. Still alone. Vampires didn't like the rain much. Hoarded their heat. Greedy fucks. Oh but Wesley, he just shared. Radiated. Steamed. Down on his knees, wet leathers and wet face and the wet curls of his hair. Lips all swollen and red and blinking almost blindly. Wet black leather too hot to look at without a twitch and the pale V of throat and the pale columns of wrists. Palms spread and open, catching rain.

He shakes his head, smiling maybe too much for all the passion he's feeling right now to come through it, but what he wants.

"Wes..." still breathless, Gunn *wants*... He wants more of this. Of whatever it is that Wesley is offering here. Needing here. Which is so damn plain:

"You gotta come now," Gunn says. Wesley nods and doesn't make a move. So Gunn does. Moves into a low, easy crouch. Takes Wesley's mouth. Strong sharp taste of himself and need there. So much need. Wesley swallowing convulsively, rocking forward like he can't help it. Gunn reaches down, undoes the belt buckle, button. Unzips the fly. Heat rising from inside the leather. The strong, bitter smell of leather and Wesley's bloodheat need. And his diving hand meets curls, meets slick hot flesh, dragging a soft, low moan from Wesley, an answer from himself.

Gunn pulls his mouth off for just enough air to laugh. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" Wesley's answering laugh is shaky, ends in a soblike sound as Gunn pulls the man's cock free into the night air and strokes it. And Wesley moans again, soundless this time and his hands go to Gunn's shoulder's holding him where he is. Whispers with great, English precision:

"Not. Quite. Yet." Gunn laughs but his mind is where his hand is. Hard pink cock hot in his hand. Warm rain on the leather, on live flesh. Wes in the palm of his hand -- unreserved. Both of them, eyes wide open with rain running down like saltless, painless tears. There is nothing sexier than watching Wesley lose it a little on every short stroke and twist. Gives him a sharp ache. Twist of his own. He wants everything here. All the beauty, all the pain, every burden Wesley will never put down -- they do that, steal the weight from each other's shoulders and Wesley is watching him so intently. Mouth open and red, words unspoken. Shaking and shaking as the pleasure spreads. His leathers open, soft thunder somewhere far away and Wesley crouched in an alley in wet black leather, coming all over his hand is a silent picture he'll keep for every night from now until the end..

Can only hold that much pure happy for so long. Has to break it himself, first.

"On second thought, I don't think you got it in you, English," he says, squeezing one last time. Wesley lets the love keep pouring out for just that second longer before the words give him back his brain and he blinks it off. Tucks it neatly away where it won't burn or bruise. When he looks up again, the brightness in his eyes is all about the game.

"Just for the moment, Mr. Gunn," he says. "But that can be remedied I think. My place?"

Gunn just grins back and tries to remember what it was like to fool himself that that was all it was.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive the conceit of starting the story with the IM conversation that inspired it. We used to do that kind of thing all the time when we were young and foolish and everybody was in love...


End file.
